


My Midnight Idiot

by Roseish



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, Flirtyrobotshipping, Friends to Lovers, I honestly don't know where this is going, Pining Lance (Voltron), pidgance, plance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-21
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-08-26 22:58:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16690543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roseish/pseuds/Roseish
Summary: College is stressful. Especially when Lance's school-issued laptop is probably the worst piece of crap he has ever tried to use. Frequent crashes. Dead pixels in the corner that came that way. Freezes if he has two tabs open. Numbers appearing when he tries to type letters?He is a frequent customer of the school's IT 24 hour hotline. It's free, but they've honestly thought about charging Lance with how often he's contacting them.But somewhere on that IT team is his soulmate. He's convinced. He doesn't even know their name because of all the damn employees to not use their name as their account handle name, it's "Pidgeonz". Every time he pops on to the school's help desk online, Pidgeonz is the first to respond. It was basic assistance at first. Then the teasing messages came after the 10th time. Then the genuine conversations and god Lance is in love with a goddamn bird for all he knows.But does Lance have time for crushes while he dies just trying to pass his classes?





	1. Essays Written at Midnight

**Author's Note:**

> Characters are all aged up to be at least 18 :) It is college, so, you know.

 

Lance has never really been good at anything. 

That’s not to be an insult.

He's actually quite good at picking up new skills, but when it comes to mastery, Lance kept falling short. And the phrase to honestly describe him might not sound any better.

He’s  _average_  at everything.

Grades that break his parent's hearts, but good enough to keep him from flunking college. Smart enough to get into the marine biology program, but definitely not the smartest in his department. He can operate a computer, but when it malfunctions, Lance is completely and utterly clueless.

He slumped over his frozen laptop screen, trying to hold back the tears. His twenty-page research paper stared back at him, unsaved, and all hope of turning it in before his 8 am class slipping away. Maybe ten feet away, his roommate since freshmen year snored the night away and it hurt Lance at the idea of waking him up. Mostly because Hunk, the great ball of sunshine he is, doesn't like being woken up. Ever seen a grizzly bear wake up? Well, it's actually kinda cute. But you don't want to get in its way. 

So Lance knew the idea of calling the IT hotline was out of the picture. But his phone was the only functioning thing left of his with an internet connection. So he whipped it out and opened up google chrome. 

Voltron Coalition University was quite a well-respected university and had always gone out of its way to make life easier for their students. Which included a life chatroom with whichever poor IT employee was given the night shift behind the keyboard. This was a group Lance had become quite familiar with in his last two years of college. And most recently this semester, the night-shift worker, “Pidgeonz”.

In attempts to make students feel more comfortable and not like their talking to a robot, everyone got to create usernames for the chatroom. Most people did their first and last name with some numbers after it. Lance.Mcdreamboat was an exception, but at least his name was there. Pidgeonz, on the other hand, had no face to the name, so Lance just imagined some idiotic pidgeon pecking at bread with eyes going in opposite directions.

>Lance.McDreamboat has entered the Server<

Lance.McDreamboat: Heeeeyyyyy, how's my favorite IT person doing on this lovely night at the ripe time of 2:13 AM?

Pidgeonz: Tired. Very tired. Especially of seeing that username. Ever thought of changing it? I can help.

Lance.McDreamboat: I like my name! I'll change it when I see you change yours!

Pidgeonz: Fine.

>Pidgeonz changed their username to "Idiot Assistance"<

>Idiot Assistance changed Lance.McDreamboat to "The Idiot"<

The Idiot: First off, RUDE -3- Second, how did you change my username???

Idiot Assistance: The powers of being an admin

The Idiot: I don't think an admin can change my username!

Idiot Assistance: How do you know? You can barely turn a computer on, let alone run a chatroom.

The Idiot: At least I have social skills. I can't turn a computer on, but I know how to do it with the ladies ;)

>Idiot Assistance changed The Idiot to "The Perverted Idiot"<

The Perverted Idiot: Hey, hey, hey I was just joking around! Change it

>Idot Assistance changed The Perverted Idiot to "Moron"<

>Idiot Assistance changed Moron to "Bafoon"<

>Idiot Assistance changed Bafoon to "Comic Relief"<

Comic Relief: Please just set things to how they were before and can we fix my computer?????

Idiot Assistance: Ugh, you take all the fun out of this.

>Idiot Assistance changed their username to "Pidgeonz"<

>Pidgeonz changed Comic Relief to "Lancelot"<

Lancelot: Okay, okay. I actually like that one. I guess it can stay.

Pidgeonz: Good, because it's not going back to that monstrosity before.

Pidgeonz: Now, back to the script. VCU IT Helpdesk, how can I be of assistance tonight?  


Lancelot: My computer froze

Pidgeonz: ...

Pidgeonz: Did you try turning it off and back on again?

Lancelot: No, you don't understand.  


Lancelot: I can't turn it off.

Lancelot: If I do, then I lose my20-page research paper on Narwals.

Pidgeonz: I'm not even gonna ask about the Narwals. Did you not save it frequently? Who doesn't do that?

Lancelot: I doesn't do that. It's a fever rush to write from months of procrastination. And it's due tomorrow.

Pidgeonz: You.  


Pidgeonz: Are.  


Pidgeonz: A.

Pidgeonz: Huge.

Lancelot: is this gonna end soon or?

Pidgeonz: IDIOT.

Despite the rude insults being flung left and right at him, Lance still stifled a smile as he wrote back and forth. Everyone else at the helpdesk just quickly solved the problem, like robots. But Pidgeonz-- Pidgeonz was different. They were smart, like super duper smart compared to Lance and some sort of computer genius. But they had a personality. A voice that Lance could practically hear on the other end of his phone. His eyes were torn from the conversation though as his computer began to flash, "Oh lordy, what could be wrong now?"

He pulled the barely functioning computer to his lap and watched as the mouse moved on its own. He tried to grab control, but anything he tried was still frozen. Lance grumbled and sweat, swearing that this had to be the end of his college career. He could always move in with his abuelita and abuelito but, he would just get nagged the entire time.

To his surprise, the mouse moved across his paper. He watched as it fixed typos he hadn't caught with his midnight exhaustion. Phrases were completely rewritten before his eyes. And it all wrapped up with the save button in the top left corner being smashed to pieces in a desperate proof that it would be safe. Just a moment after, the entire thing shut off. Lance was left in darkness as the hiss of his laptop fan whistled into silence.

He had to take a bit to compose himself. You know, pick up his jaw from the floor and realign his head before texting Pidgeonz.  


Lancelot: Did you—just—Hack my computer?????

Pidgeonz: I’ll have you know, sir Lancelot, accusations like that could get me expelled. I would never do such a despicable and heinous act.

Pidgeonz: But it seems your problem has fixed itself, I guess. You should be glad that not-half-bad paper survived.

Lancelot: I guess I should be pretty thankful.

Pidgeonz: I guess you should.

Lancelot: 03<~ thanks

>Lancelot logged off<

He was safe for another day. Lance breathed a sigh of relief before plugging in all of his electronics to their chargers.

2:30 am? Time for bed. He could get a good four hours of sleep if he could go lights out right away. And Lance could. He snuggled under his endless ocean of blue blankets and drifted off to a sound sleep.

But it was just as quickly stolen as his alarm began to blare. His shoulders tensed as he heard Hunk grumbling from the other side of their dorm room. “It’s only been like 15 minutes, what the actual quiznack,” Lance practically spilled out of bed and skulked to where his phone screamed.

“7 am…” Lance huffs as he flicks the alarm off, “That’s gotta be a lie.” It was not. For as Lance looked out his window, students were already meandering out of the dorm building with packs filled with textbooks and despair.

It seemed that the college boy thought the more he sighed, the less chance he’d need to go to class. That was another thing he got wrong. Lance trudged over to his dresser and began to pick out his clothes for the day, “Come on, Hunk, I know you have an 8 am today, don’t you bail on me by sleeping through it.”

“Five more minutes,” Hunk snarled from deep depths of his pillow.

Lance rolled his eyes, “Come on, if we move fast enough we might be able to get some bacon that’s not completely burnt at the commissary.”

The idea of well-cooked bacon salivated at Hunk’s tongue and put the sunshine in his smile as he rolled from bed. He got ready alongside Lance and soon, the two were already walking outside. The crisp fall wind prickled at the tip of Lance’s nose.

The beautiful fiery mosaic of leaves swelled around them and danced in the breeze. Lance gave his obligatory wink to each beautiful girl they passed. Though there weren’t many. Well, no. There are many beautiful girls when they... you know, brushed their hair, showered in the last week, didn’t have rings of sleepless nights under their eyes. But the few who bothered to put makeup on that morning grabbed his attention and made him stand right up.

Each girl shrugged him off, with a grimace, but that didn’t slow Lance down. Even walking into the commissary, handing off his ID to swipe for a meal, he had to flirt with Grammy Gertrude gatekeeper, “Looking practically radiant today, Gerty!”

“Oh, you,” Grammy Gertrude blushed behind a wrinkled hand, “If I were only 50 years younger. Have a good day, boys!”

Breakfast passed. Hunk and Lance went their own ways and left the day to roll on. Lance was just narrowly able to turn in his research paper, getting the side-eye of his professor, “You know you’re on thin ice, Lance. You only made it into this course because someone dropped last minute. I expect better from you.”

“Yes, Professor,” Lance smiled. A goofy grin ear to ear to mask the suffocating grip on his lungs before he took his seat. Lecture after lecture, Lance drifted through the day. Barely any information stuck to his brain as he furiously scratched notes into his notebook.

He had to be better. He had to try harder to keep up with everyone else. That’s why the school library had basically become his second home. When the day’s list of classes finished, Lance was already settled into his corner. Bricks at his backs and a forest of books before him, and the entrance as far away as possible. Barely anyone dared to venture this far into the library. There was a small dusty-blonde boy who sat in front of him, but the kid was quiet, so Lance was fine with their presence.

He looked over his notes and transferred them into another notebook, neatening his writing so he could actually read it in a month. He had his textbooks opened to combine note information. Time didn’t seem to exist as he had to perfect his notes. You’d think the outside world didn’t affect him either. But one sentence. One declaration caught his attention as a girl passed by, talking on her phone.

“And they were roommates!”

Lance chuckled under his breath, while still keeping his nose buried into in textbook. But he couldn’t help it. He had to say it.

And his table partner spoke the same words along with Lance.

“Oh my god, they were roommates…”


	2. And They Were Roommates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone is gay for Shiro

"Oh my god, they were roommates..."

Lance snapped his head up to meet mesmerizing golden eyes. Thick, dusty eyebrows rose into the stranger's hairline. The stranger's dinner-plate glasses slipped down to the tip of his nose at Lance, and the stranger just stared at one another. After a solid five seconds of awkward silence, they laughed. Lance was holding the side of his stomach while his deskmate snorted. Their laughter was so loud that their corner earned a glare from the librarian that set the two to sit straight up. Lance's tablemate resumed clacking away at his computer, snuggling his face into the cowl of his green turtleneck.

Lance peaked around, just wanting a better look at the kid before him, "freshman?" Lance chuckled, "the librarian isn't as scary as the semesters pass."

The boy glanced up and pushed a small smirk, "Really? Because when Medusa looked this way, I could've sworn you turned to stone."

Lance's shoulders rose, the hair on the back of his neck spiking. "Hey!" his voice crackled, "I'm a regular here, that's just the game that the librarian and I play, haha, good one Lillian!"

"Lillian" the bottle-blonde woman just hissed before walking off. The resounding clack of her heels pierced into Lance's heart, a strange dejection weighing down on his head. His blue eyes settled to his textbook, hoping that this would end.

Another snort came from the mysterious library boy, "You guys seem to be on just _great_  terms there, buddy."

"Watch it there, green-bean, I'm two years your senior!"

"Green-bean," the boy scoffed as he glowered over his glasses, "Might be my first year here,  _blueberry_ , but I've got enough credits to be junior status just like you. You might be older, but I sure as heck am smarter. I'm smart enough to at least keep my mouth shut."

Lance grit his teeth, words, and retorts all came to his mind half-finished and not in any state to throw back. So Lance just slouched back into his seat and stared at the endless work before him. The words blurred and mixed on paper and it just was too much. He has to keep up. He has to study. But he just couldn't focus on the pages that drown him.

A small huff came from across the table. "Sorry," green-bean grumbled. He sunk far behind his laptop that Lance couldn't make out the boy's expression, "I'm a little aggressive. I'm trying to improve myself in college because apparently, my field requires 'team-work' and I need to fix my 'attitude' if I ever wanna make it in robotics. Stupid professor..."

Lance rested on his palm, “Don’t get me started. Some of the professors like to dangle our futures in front of us and tell us we’re doing _everything_ wrong to reach it.”

“They’re harder on me because I’ve got family who went here and everyone ‘expects great things’ from me because my father got a Nobel Prize in science and my brother co-wrote one of our textbooks,” Green-bean looked out the window behind Lance’s head. His eyes glazed with a far-off look as he combed through his fluffy hair with his fingers, “And now I’m dumping my problems on you just after insulting you. As you can tell, I’m not the most social person.”

“Nah, it’s fine, it’s easy to pick on me,” Lance flashed a prize-winning smile and was able to bring back a little shine to green-bean’s light brown eyes. “But that’s gotta suck for all those expectations. It’s just not fair. You’re not your dad or your brother. You’re _you._ Can’t be anyone else in this life, even if we try. And I try.” His last line was off to the side, said more for himself than for green-bean to pick up.

Green-bean cocked his head. His eyes fall onto the laptop poking from Lance’s bag, “that yours?”

Lance snorted as he took it out, “unfortunately.” He gives a sloppy smirk as he gave the laptop a small razzle-dazzle before returning it to his backpack, “It’s a real piece of crap. I’m contacting the IT helpdesk on a constant basis.”

“Good business for them.”

“If they charged, I would be their favorite customer,” Lance laughed, leaning onto his elbows to push closer to the blonde bush in front of him. “but lucky for me, and extremely unlucky for them, it’s free of charge! Poor Pidgeonz stuck on the night shift, who has to deal with me. But I think they’re starting to war—“

Lance’s phone began to ring, All the Single Ladies blasting down the book isles to steal all the dagger-ridden glares his way. He fumbled and faltered to answer; an intense heat burnt him from head to toe. He was so distracted he barely realized green-bean’s grin at the mention of the famous Pidgeonz.

“Ah, Hunk! I’m kinda in the library,” Lance said with sweat dripping down his forehead, “Dinner? Who? Oh, Quiznack—I totally forgot about that! I’m on my way, just give me a few!”

The frenzied rush returned right after he hung his phone up. Sliding his phone into his pocket, Lance shoveled the mess of papers and books into his backpack haphazardly. Not a care for the pages that were most definitely torn, crumpled and smudged. It earned a hiss of pain from green-bean across the table.

Lance threw his sack over his shoulder and gave a quick salute, “Gotta run! Catch ya’ later, green-bean!”

“See you later, Lance.”

The blue boy was already flying out the library doors. A moment passed when he thought he heard his name, but he shook it off. He introduces himself all the time, probably met the kid before and forgot about it. Ouch, that stung Lance right in the lung to think he forgot someone. Gosh knows he’d feel like crap if someone forgot meeting him.

Lance screeched around the other students making their way cross-campus. Always, he was just centimeters from knocking some poor fellow over or moments from accidentally stealing someone’s skateboard after impact.

The evening sun broke on the horizon and cast long shadows the way he ran. The brink dorms were growing larger and larger, with three dots of people waiting by the entrance. He skidded to a stop just a couple of feet before his friends.

Hunk, the beautiful sunshine boy, beamed as Lance came. His black hair was freshly washed and shined in the evening sun.

“Where were you?” Ah yes. Mullet. Lance narrowed his eyes at the Texan before him. Kieth Kagone with his oh-so-cool red leather jacket half open. Violet eyes shot back, “are you gonna answer, or do we just assume you were jacking off?”

“ _You_ were jacking off!” Lance shouted back, biting at honestly nothing.

Keith blinked a couple of times before shaking his head, “That doesn’t even make any sense.”

The blue boy crossed his arms mumbling to himself how Keith doesn’t make any sense before he caught the eye of the third member with them.

He was a beefcake of a man really. His white button-up struggled to stay shut, and Lance felt a bump bobbing in his throat as he looked the man over. The stranger’s black hair was died white at the bangs, framing a perfectly chiseled facial structure.

Lance gave a low whistle, “Hello Hero… I-I-I mean Shiro, Shiro, _Shiro._ Holy Crow why can’t I speak.”

His roommate flung an arm over the flustered Lance with a goofy grin painted ear to ear, “Careful Lance, your Bi is showing.”

The towering Shiro laughed, a nice hearty one coming straight from the gut that had the trio of boys weak in their knees. Shiro ran his prosthetic arm through his fluff of hair, “I’m flattered, Lance. But how about you, buy me dinner first?”

The Cuban gave a seductive wink, “Where do you think we’re going, sweet cheeks?” Lance followed up his line with overdramatic finger guns. Shiro and Hunk crowed out in laughter, and while Keith, trying to chuckle along, failed miserably as his brooding glares dug into the back of Lance’s skull.

Soon, the four of them clamored into Lance’s decade old, beaten-down, soccer-mom SUV. The blueish paint had chipped away, to become coated with the reddish corrosion of rust. The back seats were torn at the seams with the memory-foam stuffing popped out.

It was maybe a five-minute drive to Applebee’s. In what seemed like a flash, they were all seated and suddenly served with their orders, stuffing their faces and discussing their days.

“So there was this guy at the library today who was like, 200 lbs of rage and bitterness in a 100 lbs package. He was actually pretty cool, made a meme reference was how we even started chatting,” Lance gushed. “He was just sitting across from me, but I barely noticed him until we both said, ‘oh my god, they were roommates’, and suddenly this ghost became a firecracker.”

Shiro nodded along to the story with a gentle expression as he poked at his stir-fry absently, “Did you get his name? Number if you were lucky?”

“Nah, Hunk called right before we could even introduce each other,” Lance shot a silly face to his roommate who was shoving the good-god-given food that is french-fries into his mouth.

With a big gulp, Hunk gave a sheepish smile, “Guess he’s just gonna be another Library Girl.”

Lance flinched, “No! Green-bean isn’t anything like that. Just a cool guy…”

Keith shook his head, a fork of salad hung from his mouth as he talked through is food, “Uh-huh. Green-bean is a totally platonic nickname. But, uh, what’s a Library Girl?”

Shiro shrugged, “One of the library assistance?”

An enormous grin filled Hunk’s face, but behind his eyes was a wicked gleam, “Oh yeah, we didn’t hang out during freshmen year. Library Girl is Lance’s first heartbreak, and he didn’t even get the guts up to talk to her.

Keith and Shiro met with devilish smiles and leaned further in to get Hunk to tell more. Lance, sinking further and further down in the booth, just dreamed of disappearing from existence.

Hunk gave a joking, “settle down” hand sign before going on, “Okay, so, it’s the first week of classes and Lance is a tall, ungraceful mess of a human who's filled with anxiety. Stressing about all his classes and stuff and failing, so he goes to the library to study. And peaking around the stacks, he sees this girl at a table. Her nose buried deep in a book on space travel. Her golden hair was wrapped up in a ponytail with a green ribbon of shining satin. She just happens to glance up as Lance was ogling, and they made eye contact. I believe Lance’s description of her eyes were, something like the ‘sunrise over Varadero Beach. Shining with the hope of a beautiful, new day.’”

“That’s pretty poetic, Lance,” Shiro nodded, fully engrossed in the story as he sat straight up with elbows perched on the table.

Lance through all this, had his face buried into the table with his hands knit as if he were praying, “God if you are out there, please just end my suffering.”

“Anyways,” Hunk continues, with a wave of a fry for emphasis, “so Lance comes back to our room in a complete tizzy. Apparently, when he saw her, his immediate gut reaction was just to take off running. And for the next month, he would go to the library every day, stalking out where she sat, in hopes of seeing her again. But, as fate would have it, Library Girl fell off the face of the Earth and broke Lance’s heart. He convinced himself it was love at first sight.”

“I was a young, and naïve freshman! When will this ever be dropped?” Lance cried.

Hunk snickered, “Never. Library Girl will be in my best man speech at your wedding, and your eulogy. And then in the afterlife, I’ll make sure all your ancestors get the full scoop.”

And so Lance was left in his miserable heap as the chatter continued. Suddenly, Shiro hissed. His good arm clutched at where his prosthetic attached and Keith was quick on the jump, “Shiro, is everything alright?”

Shiro winced but tried his best to push a trembling smile, “Yeah, just some phantom pain. I’m gonna run to the bathroom though, to re-adjust the prosthetic just to make sure.

“Is there any way I can help? I can get some painkillers if they do anything.” Keith asked, sliding out of the booth to give Shiro an exit from his window seat. The man just shook his head and meandered back through the restaurant. It left the table oddly awkward.

Lance cocked his head and gave a side cough before speaking in a sing-song voice, “Somebody caught the feelings for our Shiro-hero…”

The death stare that burned into Lance had him genuinely fearing for his life. The fire behind Keith’s expression twisted with his dark eyebrows.

“You know as well as I do that it can _never_ be like that,” Keith hissed through gritted teeth.

Lance’s shoulders drooped. The fragmented memories of Shiro fingering a gold band on his ring finger throughout dinner came to mind. The absent stares. The way Shiro looked outside with a lost smile.

“I know.”


	3. Does Pineapple Belong on Pizza?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pidge is a permanently exhausted pidgeon.

Pidge’s glazed eyes fixed to the timed-out computer screen. Her tongue lashed at the bits of melted cheese stuck in her teeth. The circle-clock above Pidge’s head ticked endlessly into the twilight hours and lulled her eyes close to shutting. A cold pizza slice hung in her loose fingers.

Her mind wandered back and stole Pidge’s brain to a dreamy flashback.

One year ago? Maybe two? She was sitting in this University’s very library. She was still a little high schooler, and her hair was wrapped up in a ponytail. Back then, it was so hard to take care of. Her hair was covered in a perpetual grease that she hated. Pidge’s only way of hiding it was by tying it up. She’d later cut it and realize, holy crap it’s so much easier to take off when there’s less hair.

Pidge scratched her short locks and felt the thick oils that still sat on her head. She’d have to take a shower soon. Eh, tomorrow. She was at work at the moment.

But her mind continued to wander back. Pidge had a project in her astronomy class, and her internet had cut out at home. Matt, her brother, overloaded it doing who knows what. It was an ‘experiment,’ of what, Pidge didn’t want to know. So there she was back in high school, sitting in a college university because it was closer than the other public library. She had been there all night, thanks to the librarians knowing her brother and father. Now it was, what? 11 am? People began to show up again.

Back then, she remembered a clatter. Her head snapped up to look down book isles. Pidge had to blink a few times, to make sure the person staring wasn’t some sort of sleep-deprived hallucination. Golden brown skin that practically glowed. Dark, well-kept hair messily styled over his face. Blue eyes. Blue as blue could be. So blue Pidge felt like she was suddenly caught by the sea, her lungs closed because she couldn’t breathe underwater.

The trance was broken quickly though. The college student was a deer in the headlights. His tongue twisted. His arms twitched. His legged bounced back and forth before, _boom_! He flew out of that library faster than Pidge could say her name.

And for the first time, in what seemed like years of a researching numbness, she broke out laughing. University students swung their heads around to suddenly see this gremlin laughing, making any noise for the first time in hours.

Speaking of any sort of noise, Pidge was forcefully dragged back to the present IT room as her computer furiously rang at her. She was quick on the draw to wake up the computer and found numerousness messages from her department’s favorite customer.

>Lancelot has entered the server<

Lancelot: Good morning, my sweet Pidgeonz

Lancelot: It’s 1 AM, it’s morning.

Lancelot: I need some assistance

Lancelot: …

Lancelot: HELP! I’VE FALLEN AND I CAN’T GET UP

Lancelot: There’s a killer in my room

Lancelot: He’s getting closer. Man that’s a sharp knife…

Lancelot: I’m scared, Pidgeonz.

Lancelot: Pidgeonz????

Lancelot: AAAAAAAHHHHHHH And I’m dead. I can’t believe you’ve done this.

“Welp, shit,” Pidge breathed as she clacked at her keyboard.

Pidgeonz: How horrible. Maybe if you’re actually dead, I can get some real sleep for once instead of dozing off at work.

Lancelot: YOU LIVEEEEEE

Lancelot: I’ve missed you so, darling.

Lancelot: Whatcha doin’?

Pidgeonz: Eating cold pizza.

Lancelot: ooooh, is pineapple on the pizza?? If so, I’ll join you.

Pidgeonz: I’m a pigeon, not a heathen. Ya’ gremlin.

Lancelot: Excuse me, I am quite tall and cute. If anything, I’m Gizmo. And pineapple is AMAZING on pizza, thank you very much.

As the conversation pulled on, the corners of Pidge’s mouth curled up. Each message had a giggle starting in the center of her chest. Every time Lancelot came into her screen view, she wiggled her toes. Pidge wasn’t the best at making friends, usually taking her words as something hostile. But this guy—didn’t seem that phased. She could text him all night, but Pidge knew that wouldn’t pan out with her bosses in the morning.

Pidgeonz: So what’s your problem?

Lancelot: My friends are meanies.

Pidgeonz: What? Is that a computer problem? Or like social media? Do I need to report internet harassment?

Lancelot: No, no! Nothing like that.

Lancelot: I went out with my friends for dinner and the entire time they were teasing and making fun of me.

Pidgeonz: Oh. Well, if it makes you feel any better, it doesn’t seem that difficult to do.

Lancelot: I mean, it’s not. But they were picking on me about people I keep meeting at the library and make me second guess my actions.

Lancelot: Like, some odd years ago I saw this girl there and acted like a complete moron? And then today I met a cool dude, and my friends think I’ve got a crush on him, but I don’t. Because like, too busy for a crush anyways. But he was funny. But I never got his name.

The IT girl slid her cheek against her palm. A foxish grin etched into her expression, “Well, this is interesting.” A new laugh came. A dark chuckle, “I wonder who in the world he could be referring to.” She knew, oh she definitely knew. And this was going to be fun.

Pidgeonz: lol let me guess, you met through quoting vines?

Lancelot: How did you know?!

Pidgeonz: I know everything, dear Lance. I’m also gonna take a guess… Were they roommates?

Lancelot: HOLY SHIT

Lancelot: Did you hack my laptop and listen in on the conversation???

Her shoulders sunk. A slight disappointment ate at her amusement. Holy crap was this guy oblivious. She debated telling him. But it didn’t seem worth it at this point.

Lancelot: But uh, changing the subject, I can’t type.

Pidgeonz: But… You… are…?

Lancelot: On my phone yeah. But my computer is being weird. Every time I type letters, numbers appear instead, and I can’t finish my form post in numeric code.

Pidgeonz: I mean you could. You’d fail the post, but you could. Also, is your number lock on?

Lancelot: ….

Lancelot: What’s a number lock?

Pidge brushed her hand over her goofy smile. By the lions, Lance really was such a dork. That’s what she thought. Her eyes rested as she continued to write back and forth. He was her midnight idiot.

This was gonna be a good year.


	4. Castle of Lions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance and Hunk go to their favorite diner in their little college town and run into a familiar face.

“And they don’t even like pineapple on their pizza!” Lance could barely contain the rage frothing at the tip of his tongue. His roommate, Hunk, kept pace as they walked across campus. “What pretentious kind of monstrosity is this Pidgeonz?”

Hunk stifled a snicker with a grin itching at his face, “Just horrible. I guess you’ll just have to get computer help, not in the middle of the night, and find a new IT worker to obsess over.”

Lance snapped his head around with blue eyes sharp as glass, “I don’t  _obsess_  over Pidgeonz. And how dare you even suggest I find a new IT person? What Pidgeonz and I have is special.”

“Sure, sure, so when are you gonna jump into the chatroom and ask them out?” Hunk laughed as they came up to their favorite coffee shop. It was a small corner diner just on the outskirts of campus. The entire outside of the building was modeled like an old castle, a little chimney styled like a castle turret, with light blue windows. As the two college students shouldered their way through the door, a small bell rang.

Lance was already swinging into the 1920’s styled chairs beside the roaring fireplace with a bitter expression like he just bit into a lemon, “Not special like that. Plus it’s the anonymity of the whole thing that makes it cool. If I ever met Pidgeonz in real life, it would ruin the whole thing.” Hunk just shrugged as a waitress swung by.

“Welcome to the Castle of Lions, boys,” She sung in her British accent. Her eyes were a cotton candy blue to match her hairband that swept up her wave of snowy hair into a messy bun. She already set down two mugs, un café con leche and another hot chocolate with marshmallows surfing above the rip. Her mahogany skin was practically sparkling as the morning sun struck her million dollar smile, “The usual breakfast platters?”

Lance grinned ear to ear as he wrapped his fingers around the coffee, “That would be amazing. Thanks, Allura.” As she nodded out, Lance pulled the roast up to his nose. The faint scent of a hazelnut brew tickled his toes with the sweet aroma drawing his sip out. After putting it down, the cream ‘stache he sported earned a great laugh from Hunk, “Hey, you’re not looking any better with your half-melted marshmallow sticking to your lower lip!”

Hunk’s chocolate eyes widened as they crossed to fix on his lips. With a quick lick, it was gone and a half-smile replaced it, “There! All good. Now, before our food gets here and I eat myself into a coma, just gotta say it: you’re a wuss, man.”

“Am not!”

“Are too! Dude, when was the last time you went on a date? Or even asked someone out on a date. I know you struck out with that Nyma chick in Mechanical Physics, but that shouldn’t get you down.” Hunk crossed his arms. His eyebrows were knit together as he stared holes into his roommates, “Plus, like, I wanna be able to have Shay over in our room _, if you know what I mean_. And I can’t very well do that when you’re in the room 24/7. If anything, at least practice. I bet Shiro would be willing to take you on a pity date.”

The Cuban boy slammed a fist onto the table, “ _Not_  Shiro. He doesn’t deserve that. Like I’m anything compared to Adam. It’s just not fair to him.”

Hunk gulped, feeling the anger rising in his best friend. He knew he crossed a line and mumbled an apology. Lance simply sank in his seat. He was unable to keep his eyes up and instead fixed them to his blue sneakers that kicked the table leg absently. He was sunk into his own world of pity, that he let the rest of the world slip by.

Including missing the welcome-door ring as a small gremlin crept into the diner. Their messy hair resembled something kinda like cauliflower as they approached the cashier table up front. A man with a ginger handle-bar mustache grinned when his eyes fell on the little freshmen, “Morning Pidge! I’ve got your to-go order all set. Good luck in class today and show them why number 5 is the best!” He boomed, handing the green-clad kid a white doggy bag.

A small smile cracked in their exhausted expression. Dark rings sank under their hazel eyes, “Thanks a bunch for this, Coran. But how long am I gonna keep that nickname?”

“Until you get taller than the rest of your family,” Coran laughed as he took Pidge’s twenty-dollar bill.

He could practically see the steam sparking from Pidge’s ears, “I know my mom, and dad and Matt are taller, but I am definitely taller than my  _dog_!”

“True, but,” Coran mused as he gave Pidge back her change, “Bae-Bae is 10x cuter which places him at number 4.”

Pidge gave a snarl as she pocketed the change. Still, her expression softened as she looked into her breakfast bag. She looked back up with a soft smile, “Thanks again.”

“You’re a friend of the family, Pidge,” Coran said just as Allura danced out from the back kitchen with two piping plates of breakfast. One were stacked chocolate chip pancakes, with a signature whip-cream smile face, and the other was a great omelette with a ketchup smile to match its partner.

Her eyes lit up at the sight of the little Pidge at the front desk, “Hey there, Pidge! Glad I caught you this morning. Have a fantastic day, and we’re still on for lunch?”

Pidge’s small frame straightened and the smile grew wide, “I nearly forgot about that! Yeah, I get out of classes at 3, so wanna just grab Subway?”

Allura gave a nod as she shifted the warm platters in her hand, “sounds great. My last class gets out at 2, so I’ll meet you over at the Olkari Science Building?”

“Perfect,” Pidge gleamed. With a quick nod goodbye, she was out the door and hopping her way to the 8 am lecture from hell. Leaving Allura to turn back to her table and filling her face with an obligatory amount of cheer that’s needed in the customer service industry.

She slid the plates down to Lance and Hunk, “All set boys. Glad to see you two made in time today and weren’t stuck eating the Commissary’s disaster called food.”

Lance was already shoveling down his pancakes and speaking between stuffed bites, “Yeah, but, the commissary’s free,” He swallowed a large bite, nearly choking but making it by a hair to live, “while we gotta pay money for this place. So the Castle of Lions is more like, a once a week place to save my wallet’s lifeline.”

Allura stifled a small chuckle, “That’s fair. But hey, Coran and I love having you guys around. So how about this: next time, you’ll bring some friends, I’ll take some time off work and bring my friends, so Coran gives all of us a party discount.”

Hunk gulped down his eggs within seconds before turning to Allura, “Friday, then?”

“Friday sounds perfect,” she grinned. Just before she could turn around Lance instinctively grabbed her wrist. Allura gave in a squint of confusion as the silence spun out longer.

Lance, finally letting go, cleared his throat, “So I’ll see you in class?”

Allura’s shoulders relaxed, “I wouldn’t miss it for the  _world_ … Religions. Get it? Because it’s… World Religions…”

“Oh no, no, no, we got it,” Hunk snickered.

“Allura, honey,” Lance leaned back in his chair with a sudden swagger he didn’t really have, “Only funny people like Hunk and me can pull off jokes like that.”

At those words, Allura’s sunny kindness turned into a lioness’s rage, “Really? What’s so funny about you, Lance? Because the only funny thing I see is your face.”

“Burn! Nice one, Allura!” Hunk threw out his arm to meet Allura’s high five, without breaking eye contact from the disgruntled Lance. The rest of the day slugged on by. Customers came and went, and Allura’s shift ended at 11:30 so she could make her 12 pm class.

And of course, there, she ran into Lance. They passed notes with silly doodles as the Professor droned on and on about his three-year exchange in India. They shot each other stupid faces, begging for the clock to tick by faster. Finally, the hands met at 2 pm, and Allura shot from her seat and booked it as fast as she could. She could just barely make out the professor stumbling out a dismissal until she was speeding down the halls of the Arusian Cultural Center.

The brisk autumn wind bit a red blush into Allura’s cheeks when she pushed out of the building. She tugged her overly-fluffy pink coat tighter. Her bun from earlier that day was abandon and twisted into two pigtails that reminded Allura of her favorite childhood anime character, Sailor Moon. Within ten minutes, she was awkwardly shuffling in front of the Olkari Science. Her eyes fixed down onto her stripped knee-high socks. In general, Allura looked kind of strange, maybe out of place as the rest of the students passed, clad in their blacks and browns to fade into the background.

Allura always held her confidence, but a gruff voice came into the back of her head,  _“at least dress down more when you’re around me.”_ Her trembling fingers snipped into the faux fur of her jacket.  _“I don’t want you to embarrass me.”_

“Hey, Allura.”

The college girl whipped around, trying to swallow the fear that rose with bile in the back of her throat. Seeing the little student before her, the strangled feelings dripped away as she knew it wasn’t him. Instead, it was a little nerd, with dusty blonde hair swooping out from under a navy blue winter hat, the little puff at the top giving Allura something to smile about. Golden eyes gleamed behind a pair of giant frames, “Is everything okay? You look a little jumpy.”

“I’m okay, Pidge,” Allura breathed, “I’m glad we’re here. Now let’s head to Subway.”

 

From underneath a wool sweater printed with a monster’s face, a great snarl broke from Pidge’s stomach. After an awkward silence, the two burst broke into laughter, with great beaming grins painted from ear to ear, “Good. I’m starving.”


End file.
